I was leaving work yesterday morning when my cel phone rang; Tybalt was calling to tell me not to food shop, but to come straight home, as Coal was having trouble breathing and had been vomiting and crying for the last hour.
Coal was diagnosed with FIP about 5 or 6 weeks ago, and has been in isolation in my bedroom. He was so glad to finally be an "only cat", even if it meant staying in one room. He'd become swollen with abdominal fluid but had been eating, drinking and using the box, and his breathing up until then had been easy and non-labored.
I got home and as soon as I saw Coal, I knew it was his time. He looked right in my face and meowed, as if to tell me he understood. We wrapped him in a towel and I held him on my lap for the long ride down the mountain to the vet's.
We were there while the vet helped him cross to the Rainbow Bridge; Tybalt and I both holding, petting and talking to him, telling him how much we loved him and what a wonderful cat he was.
I told him that once he got where he was going, if he happened to see Ulysses (who's been missing for over a week and I fear met up with a predator), to kick his butt for me, and if he wasn't there, to tell Bast to send Ulysses back home already.
He passed quietly and with dignity, as he'd lived the last 5 years with us. He would have been 15 this Spring; he was a 10 year old in a shelter when we adopted him, having outlived his previous human.
As I was finally drifting off to sleep around noon, I swear I felt him jump up on the bed behind me as he's done every day while in my room with me, and knead his paws into my hair, bumping me with his head on the back on mine. I know that was him telling me he was fine, not to worry. I'm sure he'll be waiting for me, just as I am sure he was thrilled to be reunited with his former owner.
Coal was diagnosed with FIP about 5 or 6 weeks ago, and has been in isolation in my bedroom. He was so glad to finally be an "only cat", even if it meant staying in one room. He'd become swollen with abdominal fluid but had been eating, drinking and using the box, and his breathing up until then had been easy and non-labored.
I got home and as soon as I saw Coal, I knew it was his time. He looked right in my face and meowed, as if to tell me he understood. We wrapped him in a towel and I held him on my lap for the long ride down the mountain to the vet's.
We were there while the vet helped him cross to the Rainbow Bridge; Tybalt and I both holding, petting and talking to him, telling him how much we loved him and what a wonderful cat he was.
I told him that once he got where he was going, if he happened to see Ulysses (who's been missing for over a week and I fear met up with a predator), to kick his butt for me, and if he wasn't there, to tell Bast to send Ulysses back home already.
He passed quietly and with dignity, as he'd lived the last 5 years with us. He would have been 15 this Spring; he was a 10 year old in a shelter when we adopted him, having outlived his previous human.
As I was finally drifting off to sleep around noon, I swear I felt him jump up on the bed behind me as he's done every day while in my room with me, and knead his paws into my hair, bumping me with his head on the back on mine. I know that was him telling me he was fine, not to worry. I'm sure he'll be waiting for me, just as I am sure he was thrilled to be reunited with his former owner.
